


The Road from Cheldorado

by huffspuffsblows



Category: Road to El Dorado (2000)
Genre: Gen, Storm Bootay (Chel) is mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-17
Updated: 2012-11-17
Packaged: 2017-11-18 20:32:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/564997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/huffspuffsblows/pseuds/huffspuffsblows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the map, the flogging, the horse, the giant rock, the city of gold and the creepster priest with a boner for human sacrifice, our dastardly duo find themselves time for a breather. Miguel makes a discovery, deflects the situation, and Tulio is humiliated. Again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Road from Cheldorado

**Author's Note:**

> Post El Dorado. I can't believe it's not butter- or my first El Dorado fic.

He was sitting on the steps when Miguel found him, head bowed in thought, the fingers of his left hand wrapped around something that glittered under the stars overhead. Tulio didn’t notice his approach, not until the blond took a seat beside him and poked a slender finger [calloused from hours strumming that godforsaken guitar] against the tender flesh of his ribs, eliciting an amusing girlish squeak from the other man.

“D-dammit Miguel, don’t startle me like that!” Tulio hissed, reaching over with his free hand to shove him. [not as hard as he would have liked, of course, but beggars can’t be choosers] Miguel tipped over a little, if only to let Tulio feel like he was in charge, for once, and rocked back over until they were shoulder to shoulder. 

“It’s not my fault you’re a scared-y cat,” the blond cooed after a moment of compatible silence in which Tulio had almost thought he could get away without any jabs at his manliness. Alas, humiliation seemed to be his calling.

“Wha-… scarde-y-.. I’ll have you kn-” Tulio’s heated spiel was cut off as Miguel leaned over, digging his boney chin into Tulio’s shoulder as he peered down at his companions' hand.

“What’ve you got there, partner?” Curiosity piqued and attention span nonexistent, the blond reached for his companion’s closed fist, but before his greedy little fingers could connect, Tulio’s fingers were suddenly flung open, revealing the object of his deep contemplation.

Miguel’s eyes widened, breath caught in his throat. “This is….”

Laying innocently across Tulio’s tanned palm was a set of square earrings of solid gold, staring back at them as if to mock their adventure, their ordeals [“soooo much gooooooolllddd”] their steps up to that moment. The moment their lives, and the meaning of adventure, had transformed forever. Never to relapse. [though Tulio's gold and luxurious needs required a bit more work in that aspect. It was most difficult to wean him]

Tulio juggled the earrings in his palm for a moment, then heaved a sigh. “Alright, go on, say it. I know you’re just dying to.” He scowled and waited for the inevitable, the thing that would secure the reality; she’s really gone, it's tangible enough to increase the Altivo sized weight crushing his chest at the mere thought.

“You know, I bet we could win a mountain of pesetas with those,” Miguel snarked, sunny grin stretched from ear to ear, green eyes warm and daring the Debbie downer known as Mr. Perpetual Forehead to ruin the moment.

“Yes, yes, you told me so-” Tulio blinked once. Twice. Did a great imitation of floundering fish lips. “Wait, what.”

Quick as lightning, Miguel snatched the earrings and pocketed them before climbing to his feet with a whistle on his lips. “A mountain of pesetas. What do you say, Tulio? Ready to follow that trail?” He offered Tulio his hand, wiggling his eyebrows in what he thought was an attractive manner. [His partner found it less than endearing]

Tulio could only stare, a blistering fuzzy feeling gathering in his chest. He remembered just why he put up with the blond, the one who would always be there to beat some sense into his permanently bruised forehead, no matter how tempting the spoils of the land or the warm arms of another man [well….woman. Or chieftan, sort of. His bosom was a little too welcoming]. 

“...Fine,” he finally replied, ultimately failing to uphold his usual skepticism, what, with the tiny, wry smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “But the horse stays this time.”

He took the offered hand in his and swung his free arm around Miguel’s shoulders, pressing his mouth to the blonds ear to mumble, “th…ks…”

Miguel cocked his head to the side and smirked, eyes twinkling, though he made no move to avoid the heat of Tulio pressed against him. “My, my, amigo. Getting so cozy like that with me gives me the impression you’ve finally discovered what happened last night,” he teased as they walked down the cobblestone street, arms linked. "About damn time."

Tulio chuckled. “Heh, yea-…” he paused, utterly still, blank faced. Miguel chanced a peek at him and had to stifle a (very manly and deeply soulful) giggle at the perfect expression on the man's face.

“Three…two…one….” The gears in Tulio’s brain were beginning to spin, Miguel knew as much by now. Not to mention the sounds of his whimpers were picking up volume.

“Hey! That’s….no! I….Miguel!” He sputtered to life, tanned cheeks blossoming red in embarrassment.

“Yes, yes, that’s rather close to the sounds you made, darling.” Miguel clucked his tongue, clearly pleased with himself. A job well done, hombre.

Once again they were Miguel and Tulio, a two man crew following that trail to wherever it beckons them, a bond stronger than any city of gold or foxy vixen. Ultimately unbreakable.

“And besides, how….how are you so sure you would top, anyway?!”

“Oh, Tulio, you overestimate your own swordsman skills. And that is exactly why you lose every time.”


End file.
